


Lord John Grey and the Hounds of Brownsville

by Angstosaur



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Caves, Gen, Lord John Grey is awesome again, Pumpkins, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:26:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27082624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angstosaur/pseuds/Angstosaur
Summary: Brianna wants to surprise her parents on Halloween. In return she terrifies Lord John Grey who accompanies her, scares her mother and causes her father to be more protective than usual.
Relationships: Lord John Grey & Brianna Randall Fraser MacKenzie
Comments: 10
Kudos: 27
Collections: Lord John Trick-or-Twink Spooktacular 2020, Outlander Bingo Challenge





	Lord John Grey and the Hounds of Brownsville

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Drivablecar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drivablecar/gifts).



> This is lurching in the direction of a crack!fic. I don't know what I was thinking when I wrote this, but normal service will be resumed before October is through. 
> 
> it is my second contribution to the Lord John Grey 'Trick or twink spooktacular' 
> 
> It also fulfils the 'Trapped in a cave' square on my Outlander Bingo Challenge 2020 card.

** Lord John Grey and the Hounds of Brownsville **

There was a full moon, and the air was crisp with the scents of autumn.

A dark cloud slid across the face of the moon, briefly plunging the forest into darkness, causing the two riders to halt their progress.

“Isn’t that beautiful?” asked the young woman, tilting her head up to look at the night sky, the stars glittering like tiny shards of glass. “So many stars in the sky.”

“Come on, Miss Randall. They say these woods are not safe at night,” urged Lord John Grey, as he pricked up his ears, listening warily to every scuffling sound in the dark. “You have inherited the traits of both your parents it would seem and are thoroughly fearless.”

“Well, sure, I’m not afraid of anything _these_ woods may throw at me,” scoffed the young woman. “The most dangerous thing in the Carolinas is my damn father.”

“I concur with you that your father is indeed a formidable man if you get on his wrong side.” Grey sighed heavily, considering how many close calls with Jamie Fraser’s more dangerous nature he had managed to survive.

“Or are mistaken for someone who has!” exclaimed Brianna Randall. “I’ll never forgive him for what he did to Roger. That bastard! Let me tell you-”

“You have told me, my dear. On numerous occasions,” interjected Grey, his tone long-suffering. “I am sure I could recite the whole sorry tale verbatim.”

Taking advantage of the cover of darkness, John grimaced. He had heard the story of how Jamie had pummelled the young woman’s fiancé with his fists, before selling him to the Mohawk, so many times, he could hear her voice ringing in his ears long after she ceased talking. In his less charitable moments, he thought it would be understandable if Mackenzie had chosen to stay lost. As it was, he had not returned to River Run with the Frasers and they had travelled on to Frasers Ridge leaving a note to John to keep an eye on their daughter. She evidently had not told them that he was engaged to her and they had not dallied long enough to find out from anyone else.

_Damn._

“You are so sweet, how you take everything literally!” Brianna chuckled to herself. “No wonder mom likes you so much.”

Lord John Grey rolled his eyes, wondering if the dear child had any concept of the strange truce that existed between himself and her mother. They had come to terms with each of them being in love with Jamie Fraser on the strict understanding that Claire’s needs came first. It had been Claire’s idea to have Jamie write to him in Virginia and ask him to watch over their daughter – apparently he had proven himself by caring for Jamie’s other child and they saw him as some sort of surrogate parent when they were estranged from their offspring for one reason or another.

“She would not be happy that I am letting you ride through these woods near the end of October, in the middle of the night-“ John paused, hearing a strange howling in the distance. “Hush! Listen – can you hear that sound? There must be a pack of wild dogs loose in the woods. When I agreed to act as your chaperone it had not occurred to me that you would insist on putting yourself in danger!”

“The howling? Sure, I heard it way back, outside of Brownsville. That place gives me the creeps. Anyway, I think they’re heading away from us.”

“May I ask, once more, why you are in such haste to arrive at Fraser’s Ridge tonight of all nights?” asked John.

“I want to get there before Halloween – I did tell you.”

“All hallows’ eve? Forgive me, but I did not take you as a particularly religious person, despite your father’s staunch Catholicism. You have not sought out either a church or priest once in all the time I have known you. You have not even had your child baptised!”

“I’ll have him baptised when I’m married,” announced Brianna as if that were all there was to the matter. “Hopefully, to Roger – but you’re next in line.”

John frowned and shook his head, unwilling to ask if she was teasing him or not. He very much hoped that she was.

“Your parents would rather you arrived in one piece after the last day of October than not at all – as would I. Partly because they will dismember me should I allow any ill to befall you.” Moving along slowly, John wondered if there was any chance he would get to lay his head on a pillow that night. “We could have stayed the night at that inn in Brownsville rather than just stopping there to eat.”

“Why, Lord John, surely you’re not suggesting we could’ve spent the night together?” teased Brianna tossing her mane of dark red curls over her shoulder, quite coquettishly for a woman handfast to one man, engaged to another and not long having given birth to a child whose father’s identity had yet to be confirmed.

“In separate rooms, my dear,” replied John, adamantly. “Although we are officially engaged, we are not wed, so what you are suggesting would have been entirely improper. Even though there is talk in North Carolina that I am the mystery father of your son!”

The irony of those rumours was not lost on John – that strangers should believe him to be father of two generations of Frasers, the son, and the grandson of the man he loved, never ceased to bemuse him.

Not for the first time was Lord John Grey grateful that the Frasers had been so wearied and saddened by their journey to the north and back, that they had not stayed long enough to be exposed to any gossip. It had also transpired that Brianna had sworn Jocasta to secrecy regarding his status as potential son-in-law; having explained that after Jamie and Claire had spent months searching for Roger, she did not want them to think she had sent them on a pointless excursion, encountering dangers and hardships, only to find a replacement for her handfast husband the moment she had arrived at River Run.

“Roger is adorable – but you’ll make an awesome dad if Roger bails. What’s more, I bet you wouldn’t pulverise any of his suitors without checking who they were first.”

“I very much doubt that your father would raise a hand to a woman,” John stated in defence of his friend. “However, it is true that I did bring up William – as I told you, even though he is not mine by blood.”

“You never told me who his parents were. Am I ever going to meet him?” asked Brianna. “I mean, I could end up being his new step-mom.”

John Grey pulled his horse to an abrupt stop and stared at the back of the woman riding away from him. How the hell would he explain to Jamie that his daughter could become his son’s stepmother?

As he paused, listening to the woods in the night, he heard owls hooting, badgers snuffling and then ... again … definitely closer, the sound of dogs. Big dogs. Perhaps they were not dogs. Perhaps they were wolves. _Shit_.

Brianna had realised that John was no longer close behind her so had slowed down and was looking at him over her shoulder. The moonlight painting her hair with silver streaks, making it even more like the russet and grey locks of her father.

“So, when we get there, are you going to tell my old man that we’re engaged?” called out Brianna, her voice carrying through the forest.

Urging his horse to trot forward to join his foolhardy companion, John spoke quietly hoping she would take the hint.

“Certainly not!” he hissed. “Although I do not understand why you have not agreed to end this charade. After all Roger has been found and I am sure he will come back to you soon.”

“As Roger chose to go away and consider the changed nature of our relationship and the possibility that my son is not his, I have no intention of breaking off my engagement with the most eligible man this side of the Atlantic Ocean.” Brianna paused and smiled to herself as she heard the politest of polite men cuss under his breath.

“Dear God – I agreed to this arrangement in order to protect you from the unwanted attentions of the ranks of suitors your aunt had lined up!”

“Sure, and that still works to my advantage. And it keeps you safely off the market, too.”

“Humph…” muttered John, although he had to agree that he had been pestered much less on account of his engagement.

“Don’t get so uptight! I’m just teasing.” Brianna chuckled to herself as she urged her horse through a dense thicket of saplings. “Although you are incredibly hot – I saw the way the ladies look at you when we walked into town, arm in arm.”

“Hot – as in feverish?” muttered John, again perplexed by the strange vocabulary the woman used.

“No, although my history classes would’ve been a damn sight more fun if you’d been talking about the English Civil War. I could listen to you all day – and all night. You have an amazingly sexy voice, has anyone ever told you that?”

John snorted in amusement. Although Percy, Stephan and a few others came to mind, all of whom had passed comment on certain vocalisations he had been known to make at a certain point, he had no intention of sharing that information with the daughter of his unrequited love.

“So, tell me about you and my old man? You do have a major crush on him, don’t you?” teased Brianna, riding close enough to nudge John’s calf with her foot. “I would so love to see his face if you tell him you’re going to be his son-in-law. What would it take for you to call him ‘pops’?”

Grey’s eyes widened in horror at the prospect. How on earth could he possibly envisage having Jamie Fraser as his father-in-law. That would put him on equal footing with Lord Dunsany – grandfather to Jamie’s son, who was Lord John’s stepson – dear God. That would make for an interesting family tree, quite circuitous.

“Dear God, I am just hoping that your betrothed makes his mind up soon. Heaven only knows how your father would react should we ever actually become married.”

However, John had a fair idea of exactly how Jamie would react. It would involve fists – Jamie’s naturally- and his face. It would probably also involve bloodshed and a great deal of pain – all his again. As he pondered the possible fates that life may have in store for him should Roger not come to his senses, he heard the noises in the woods again – getting closer. He turned his head from side to side trying to ascertain which direction the snarling sounds were coming from.

“Hey, you know what would be fun?” giggled Brianna. “In the spirit of the season, I’d like to play trick or treat on my father – the treat will be me visiting and the trick would be telling him we’ve got hitched. Can you imagine his face? He’d blow a gasket to be sure.”

“For the love of all that is holy, I beg of you do not even say something like that in jest. Your father once threatened to kill me for touching his hand. I suspect the thought of me having laid a hand on his daughter would provoke an even more violent reaction.”

“Spoilsport – party pooper. Why can’t you at least try to get excited for Halloween.”

“Dear God, not again. I am still at a loss as to the need to carry a sack full of carved vegetables with us. Surely they will be of no use for cooking?”

“Like I said, those are going to be a surprise for Mom – she’s gonna love them,” Brianna patted the bulging sack that was hooked over the back of her saddle, cushioned with a thick blanket underneath to protect the side of the horse.

John was unconvinced but decided not to pursue the subject any further.

“And my handkerchiefs that you have fashioned into ghouls?” asked Grey, distraught at only having two unmutilated kerchiefs to his name.

“Ghosts – spooks!” Brianna pulled one out from her cloak pocket – the handkerchief tied off at one end around a few cotton bolls, and a simple face of two dark eyes and a gaping mouth drawn onto the outside. “I can’t believe this will be your first Halloween party!” chuckled Brianna as she watched her companion’s facial expressions contorting in horror. “You’re gonna have a ball!”

“I very much doubt it. My dignity may not survive. What was that game you described to me? Apple popping was it?”

“Apple bobbing, my dear John. You are just so adorable. I must admit I'm surprised you didn't turn my old man’s head in all those years my mom was out of the picture.”

“I do beg your pardon?”

“You heard, since that time when I played that parlour game at River Run, I just knew it – you’ve got the hots for my old man. I bet you’re getting stiff just thinking about him.”

“What?” John’s head spun round to see if he had imagined what the young woman had said. As he did so the whole canopy above them seemed to reverberate to the sound of a sole wolf howling loudly – unmistakably a wolf and not a wild dog.

“Whoa! What the fuck was that?” yelled Brianna, stopping to listen to the responding howls that sounded from different directions.

“They have been following us ever since we left Brownsville,” said John, looking worried. “They have been growing gradually closer.”

Shortly afterwards the howls started up again. Louder and more persistent. From a hill behind them as well as in the dense woods beyond the bridge they had been about to cross.

“Damn. Those definitely are not dogs – they are wolves! A whole damn pack of them,” said Grey, recognising the sounds as those made by a hunting pack and not just a solitary wolf.

The horses had become skittish and restless – John’s chestnut stallion reared up on its hind legs and it was only his horsemanship that kept him in the saddle.

“Fuck’s sake! Are you OK?” demanded Brianna, forgetting the need to speak like a well-bred young lady. “John? What the fuck is happening?”

“Oh my - you really are so very much like your mother, “ replied John Grey, startled at the words emanating from the dear girl’s mouth. “I fear that we are under attack.”

John reached out to steady Brianna’s horse, only to find his hand batted away.

“I’ve got it, you just concentrate on not getting thrown off!”

“It is just as well we left your son at River Run. I did raise my concerns that this is far too dangerous a journey to be making at this time of year,” John frowned and looked around them, searching for a way they could make a safe retreat. “We should return to the tavern.”

“There’s no point, John. They’re behind us as well. Got any other ideas?”

“We could climb those trees and leave our horses to their own devices, I am sure they-“

“Not gonna happen,” Brianna snarled, reaching forward to comfort her horse. It occurred to John at that moment that the way she cared for the animals was so similar to Jamie’s – he smiled as he found yet another thing they shared in common. “Tell you what, couldn’t we just ride like hell and outrun them?”

“In the dead of night, with no clear track to follow?” observed John, trying, unsuccessfully, to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. “Do you really think that will help, Miss Randall?”

The baying of the wolves was louder – the sound eerie as it pierced the night.

Whilst they were distracted, glaring at each other, a large wolf emerged from the thickets in front of them. It was the largest wolf Grey had seen in his entire life. It padded slowly towards them. 

“Dear God!” cried out John as he struggled to keep his horse from bolting.

Fearing his horse would career off into the night leaving his charge without defence, John swiftly dismounted and handed Brianna the reins. He then advanced, holding out a pistol in one hand and a sword in the other – until he stood between Brianna and the wolf. ~~~~

“I shall distract it,” said John more calmly than he felt, having almost resigned himself to his fate. “When it comes for me, ride on – as fast as you damn well can. Do not look back.”

The large russet coloured wolf sniffed the air – its slanted blue eyes narrowing as it caught scent of the girl. On the other side, a smaller, darker wolf, scarred from previous battles, and limping slightly on its front leg, snarled until the larger wolf growled at it, prompting it to back away.

“Damn – it has scented you now,” whispered John, doing his best to maintain eye contact with the beast. It had unusually bright blue, slanted eyes and appeared to be appraising him very carefully. “There is nothing for it, but to take a stand.”

The other wolves they had heard then appeared from the forest, their yellow irises gleaming in the darkness as they moved in. Having circled the two humans, they had formed a net that was slowly tightening.

John held out his arms, in a futile attempt to defend Brianna from any of the dozen or so wolves he could see out of the corners of his eyes. He moved around her, keeping his own body between hers and the animals baring their teeth at him.

“You may have to give my apologies to your parents, Miss Randall,” instructed John. “You can tell them that I was delayed _en route_. If you would be so good as to-“

“Like hell, I will! And stop called me Miss Randall – you can use my first name!” blurted Brianna, pulling a pistol from her belt. “If you’re taking a stand, I’m standing with you. I’m not a fucking damsel in distress for God’s sake.”

“Please do not emulate your parents in doing anything incredibly reckless or terribly stupid– ” called out John, not daring to take his eyes off the largest of the wolves that had begun to advance towards him, its long strides eating up the ground between them surprisingly fast. 

“I’m not the stupid, reckless fool standing there taking on a pack of fucking bastard wolves.”

Brianna grabbed hold of the two sets of reins in one hand and then raised her pistol above her head to fire it into the air, gambling on the sound being sufficient to scare off the wolves and buy them time to escape. She then swung her legs down to the ground to stand by John’s side.

“Dear God, you could have warned me that you were going to do that!” complained John, having been startled so much he had looked away from the russet wolf that was now sniffing him eagerly.

“I didn’t want to give them any warning,” came Brianna’s glib response. She had evidently enjoyed startling John Grey. “Looks like I’ve scared them all off except that big ugly bastard, the one that looks like it wants to eat you and the one that looks too lame to run off.”

“We should get back on the horses and make flight before they return.”

Brianna could not help but notice how John was still putting himself between her and the two wolves that had not run off.

“You are just so sweet. I could kiss you, my gallant prince.”

“Damn it – this is neither the time nor the place for jesting.” Or teasing thought Grey, unaccountably irritated with the girl’s forthright nature.

The large wolf looked from John to Brianna and growled, deep in its throat. John found the sound strangely reminiscent of another creature, yet he could not recall what it had been. But it was evidently not at all happy. 

Apparently, Brianna Randall was oblivious to the shifting moods of the wolf that was creeping ever closer to Grey. She wrapped an arm around the man’s waist and grabbed hold of his head with intent.

“Hell – if this isn't the time to give you a kiss, when we may only have minutes left to live, I'll be damned if I know when would be a better time!”

Before John could do anything about it, having his hands fully occupied holding both a sword and a pistol, Brianna kissed him full on the mouth, prising open his lips, determined to swipe her tongue across his before he had chance to stop her.

However, it was not John that stopped her, but the large, russet coloured wolf – it growled even louder than before, bared its teeth and darted forward low to the ground as if about to clamp its jaws around John’s leg.

“Down, boy!” yelled Brianna, pointing at the wolf as if it were a mischievous puppy and not an enormous wolf with two-inch long fangs. A glare from Brianna had it retreat until it pressed its body flat to the ground and just stared at them.

“Whatever possessed you to do that? Look at what you’ve done - you’ve upset the beast!” yelled John, trying not to lick his lips, reminded him of another kiss, a long while ago, that has also tasted of ale and fresh baked bread.

“If we’re about to be ripped to shreds by wolves I wanted to find out what I was going to be missing when I do break off our engagement!” stated Brianna, brazenly. She then traced a fingertip around John’s lips. “You really do have a lovely mouth – has anyone ever told you that?”

“Miss Rand- Brianna!” protested John, giving up on propriety having just been kissed on the mouth by the daughter of his dearest friend.

John looked from Brianna to the horses and wondered if it would be feasible to ride from there fast enough to escape the wolves, in the dark, through the forest, with low branches and roots spreading everywhere. It was as he was considering their best prospects of surviving the night that he saw that Brianna was still staring at his mouth.

“What is it?”

“Your mouth. You have such great lips – full and goddam hot. Jeez, Grey, couldn’t you swing both ways?” teased Brianna. “Back at River Run, you did mention something about playing with fire and I reckon I can handle a few burns.”

In an attempt to protect her, John had manoeuvred Brianna behind him. Unfortunately, this put her in a position where she could tightly wrap her arms around his waist, and lean forward to whisper into his ear.

John would have closed his eyes and prayed that he was in the midst of a particularly vivid and disturbing dream, it he were not afraid the wolf would strike as soon as it saw his eyelids fall.

“You smell divine – did anyone ever tell you that?” asked Brianna, a timely reminder that he was neither dreaming nor having a nightmare.

The wolf was no longer content to stay pressed to the ground submissively, it was standing upright once more, its back arching, it hackles risen in a thick red ridge along its spine. In the moonlight, John could see tendrils of saliva dripping from its sharp teeth.

It seemed that Brianna’s proximity to Grey had made it even angrier. John assumed that was because it wanted to separate its prey. He wondered if it would pursue him if he pushed Brianna away from his side and ran towards it. However, this time as the wolf got closer it walked past him and reached out a paw, using its long claws to snatch hold of Brianna’s skirt, tugging her away from John.

John span around and parried his sword at the wolf in an attempt to scare it away from Brianna – but it did not seem to mean her any harm. It just wanted to move between them. The other wolf was also daring to move closer, but its attention was more focused on John.

The dominant wolf swished it large tail from side to side, increasing the gap between them. It then ducked its head down and shoved Brianna to one side with its nose. Instinctively she pulled the bag that she had earlier slung over her shoulder free and swung it until it smacked the wolf on the snout. As she let go of it, a carved pumpkin tumbled free. The wolf yelped and rolled away, stunned, its eyes watering. That gave Brianna time to reach forward and grab hold of John once more.

“Hey, leave him alone – I found him first!” she yelled at the wolf. She sidestepped the animal when it began to recover and grasped hold of John’s hand.

They became aware of other noises in the undergrowth, scratching and sniffing, signifying the return of the other wolves, which seemed to make the main two animals even bolder. Brianna was surprised that these two wolves were so focused on John, intent of keeping him away from her.

“Quick! Leave the horses, they’ll run on to Fraser’s Ridge on their own!” Brianna yelled as she slapped the hindquarters of her horse and then John’s, startling them into galloping off in the night. She was pleased that it did not seem as if any wolves were following them. “My horse is one that my father gave me. Yours will follow him. Now, run! Head that way – it looks like the opening to a cave!”

Brianna pointed in the direction of a darker area in a hollow ahead of them and John prayed that she was correct.

“No! You go, I’ll stay here and act as a decoy!” shouted John. He considered, bleakly, that of all the things to be grateful for as he counted his blessings, was the fact that he would probably not survive to tell Jamie Fraser that he had let his daughter be devoured by wolves.

“Come on, John! I’m not leaving you here on your own! If you stay, so shall I!”

It was the final threat that made John concede and he ran to join Brianna, swiping at the incoming wolves with his sword, fending them off as they made their way through the trees and undergrowth towards the cave. He caught one across the snout and another’s tail – enough to make them yelp and dash off to lick their wounds. John regretted not having time to take aim with his pistol, but he also did not want to risk hitting Brianna. Another conversation he would rather not have with either Fraser – _‘I come to you, full of remorse for accidentally shooting your daughter whilst fleeing a pack of bloodthirsty wolves. I am most terribly sorry for your loss.’_

They were nearly there, and it did appear to be the mouth of a cave. The sounds of barking and gnashing of teeth came ever close on their heels as they ran faster and faster. Grey had hold of Brianna’s hand, having tucked his pistol out of the way.

Stumbling over the rough terrain, Brianna tripped over a tree root and went flying – pulling Grey down with her. They rolled down the slope towards the cave, tumbling over one another as they fell. John grabbed onto Brianna’s skirts, which tore violently as they caught on prickly undergrowth and came away in John’s hands. He scrambled to his feet and grabbed hold of Brianna to propel her towards the safety of the shelter – throwing her the pistol he had tucked into his belt.

“Take this – I know you know what to do with it!” John yelled as he turned around once more to present a barrier between the young woman and the beasts. However, his attempt at gallantry was foiled as she dragged him back with her.

“What is it with you men and your need to sacrifice your fucking selves for nothing?” demanded Brianna, in a tone that she must have learnt from her mother. “Get the hell in here now!”

John stumbled as he was pulled into the darkness and shoved up against the earthen wall of the cave.

“We’re going to have to stay in here until they’ve gone. All night if that’s what it takes.”

“Oh dear God in heaven. If your father finds out that we spent the night together, alone in the woods, he will kill me!” hissed John. “I’d receive more mercy if I threw myself at that bloody wolf. Which gives me cause to wonder - I have never seen any wolf that big or that red before. Your parents have never mentioned such beasts in any of their letters.”

John was confounded. He could hear the animals outside, pacing around and baying low and deep as if informing the pack of their location. He could not understand why the two larger wolves had tried to protect Brianna and had not yet attacked them although they had had plenty of opportunity in the clearing.

“You know what?” whispered Brianna conspiratorially. “I don’t think those are normal wolves at all. I think they’re fucking werewolves!”

“Where?” asked John looking around worriedly. "Where wolves?" 

"There fucking wolves!" hissed Brianna, pointing towards the woods, laughing almost hysterically. "Fucking werewolves!"

“What the hell are you on about now?”

“You’ve never – of course not.” Brianna sighed in exasperation. It occurred to her that Roger would have understood her reference. “Never mind. Come on – if we pull some of these rocks loose, we can build a barricade to keep them out.”

Before John could stop her, Brianna was scrambling to get her hands around the rocks that were embedded in the soft earth surrounding the entrance to the cave they had fallen into.

As Brianna pulled loose one large boulder, a whole slew of rocks fell from the ceiling, crashing down loudly and causing John to pull her back from harm’s way. The dust made them both cough and struggle to breathe. They were plunged into darkness and the lack of any light penetrating the cave made it evident that they were blocked in and the wolves out.

Grey slumped down to the ground– he was trapped in a cave, with the daughter of two fiercely protective parents. When they found them there, with the young woman’s skirts ripped to tatters, and her arms scratched to pieces they would probably castrate him first and ask questions later. To compound matters, it sounded as if that enormous red wolf was trying to dig its way through the rubble to get to them. Grey really did not know which was the greater danger – Brianna Randall’s parents or the damn wolves. Or, for that matter, the young woman herself, who seemed to have become smitten with him for some unfathomable reason. She had caught him _in flagrante delicto_ with that damn judge, she should have no cause to doubt his proclivities, she had even threatened to blackmail him with that information. _Why was she intent on making him uncomfortable?_

“Are you alright, Brianna?” asked John anxiously, he had not heard her say a word since she had sworn when the roof had come down about them.

“I think so, just a few more bruises. What about you?”

“I am still alive and not being chewed upon by monstrous wolves,” he shrugged as he tried to find any other positives to the situation he found himself in. “I’m holding out my hand – swing your arm around until we touch.”

“I’ve got a better idea. Hang on there, I’ll find you shortly.”

In the darkness, Grey could hear Brianna searching for something, and then he heard a striking sound, which was followed by the smell of phosphor and a dazzling glow in the dark.

“What on earth was that?”

“A better way to light a fire than rubbing sticks together.” Brianna slipped the box containing her precious matches back into the pocket in her skirt, glad that she had not lost them when she had fallen down the slope.

As she held the lit match in front of her, shielding the flame with her hand, she could see John’s face in the dark, a dark red trickle of blood running down his forehead.

“Oh shit – you’re hurt. Mom is gonna give me hell for this.”

“Why?” asked John, even more confused. However, he did rub his head and felt the stickiness of blood, which he put down to the rock that had struck his head.

“She really is quite fond of you. Even if you do want to get in my dad’s pants.”

Brianna was just able to see John’s face become red as the match burnt down and she had to blow it out before singeing her fingers.

“John? As we’re alone. In the dark and we may never be rescued – ”

“No. Absolutely not.”

In the darkness, John could feel Brianna’s hands reaching for him, her nimble fingers weaving their way under his waistcoat and into the front of his breeches. He quickly grabbed hold of her slender wrists to stop her from making further progress.

“Stop that now!” insisted John. “I shall put this aberration down to the shock of the situation and fear of death. It has been known to cause many a level-headed man and woman to act totally out of character-”

Biting his lower lip, realising that his own words applied equally to himself as to Brianna, John was aware of a stirring in his loins, his twitching cock undermining his determination to remain honourable and loyal. Even if Grey could be certain that neither of the girl’s parents would ever find out, he was troubled that his attraction to the feisty young woman was related to her resemblance in appearance and character to both. The dichotomy of guilt was tearing him apart, so he had no choice but to pull his knees up to his chest and keep the offending member from being accidentally touched by his faux fiancée.

“I recall what you said to me about being able to carry out your husbandly duties,” said Brianna, her voice softly seductive. “Perhaps I’m in the mood to play with fire.”

“I would strongly advise against playing with fire in a sealed enclosure, with no way out,” came John’s carefully considered reply. 

Brianna sat down and pulled the battered remains of her pumpkins out of the hessian sack. She selected one that was still more or less intact and then felt around for the candles. Setting the pumpkin on a level area of ground close to her feet, she pushed one of the candles into the pulpy interior and used a match to light it. The orange glow through the jagged, swollen eye sockets and gaping gash of a mouth illuminated the cave in an eerie, orange light. She heard a sharp intake of breath from John.

“What in damnation is that monstrosity?”

“A Jack-o’-lantern,” answered Brianna, although she had to admit to herself that the damage made it scarier than she had intended. “You really have never seen one before?”

“Never and if I was to never see another one, it would be too soon.” However, secretly John was grateful for the ghastly distraction. He felt better for being able to see where Brianna was sitting, it quietened his overactive imagination taunting him with the feel of those long fingers dancing across his back. In the enclosed space, in the dark, he had become more aware of her scent, a heady combination of aromas that reminded him so much of his dear friend and unrequited love.

“If we’re going to be here overnight we may as well get comfortable.” Brianna shuffled closer to John and slipped an arm inside his cloak. “Come on, cuddle up.”

“Cuddle?” John raised an eyebrow. “I dare not imagine what that may involve where you are concerned.”

“Sure, why not? Just to keep warm,” said Brianna, insouciantly as she nudged him with an elbow. “No one ever got pregnant from a cuddle.”

“Maybe not. But if your parents were to find out, I may be permanently denied the chance of ever fathering a child of my own.”

Despite his protestations, John opened his cloak so that he could drape it over Brianna’s shoulders.

“That’s not what you’d really miss though, is it?” she muttered, sliding a hand around his hips.

“You really are the most forthright of young women, aren’t you?” replied John with a soft chuckle.

As they sat there, in quiet contemplation of their predicament, they could hear scraping and scratching outside, the sound of animals digging. They could also hear barking and howling – scratching and sniffing. Their eyes met over the grotesque pumpkin and in silent accord they agreed to be as quiet as possible.

John felt a slight tremor from the young woman. “Are you shivering because you are cold, or because you are frightened?”

“In the interests of maintaining an honest dialogue, maybe a little of each.”

John pulled Brianna closer to his side and tucked her head against his chest.

“I shall guard you with my life. I promised your parents that I would keep you safe and I shall do so, even if I should be killed in the process.”

“You’re a very brave man, John, aren’t you?”

“Not really,” smiled John. Thinking that if he were truly brave he would have told her father exactly how he felt.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

John kept watch over Brianna all night. She had dozed intermittently, looking so much younger when she slept. He wondered how much of her coquettish behaviour was just a defence to hide the fact that she was scared, which was a reasonable state considering the noises infiltrating from outside their shelter. There were the sounds of animals fighting, the screeches of pain and anguish as injuries were incurred and something that sounded horribly like the crunching of bones. As dawn arrived and some light from outside finally began to trickle through a few cracks in the rockfall, the sounds ceased. It seemed to John that the wolves had given up and slipped away to wherever their lairs were where they hid out during the day. 

As he leaned out to listen more carefully, Brianna’s head slipped from his shoulder, requiring a quick adjustment to hold her steady. As he grasped her arms, Brianna woke up and looked straight into John’s eyes.

“Ah, my handsome prince – you stayed awake all night, didn’t you?” Brianna yawned expansively, before looking around as her eyes adjusted to the dim light that was coming from outside, the candle having burnt out earlier. She frowned as she took a good look at the pumpkin, it had apparently become flattened in the night, resembling a pancake more than a Jack o’ lantern. “Damn, that was the best one I had left,”

“Damn,” echoed John, his voice totally devoid of sincerity. He surreptitiously wiped the orange flesh from the sole of his shoe. “Stay where you are, I’ll check to see if there is any weakness in the rocks. We may be able to extricate ourselves.”

As John pushed against the stones not expecting them to budge at all, he was surprised when they moved with ease. It did not take much at all to shove them aside. It was as if there had only been a few left in the way.

Slowly and quietly exiting the cave, John looked around in the early morning light. The ground outside was churned up with large pawprints and the scuff marks of fights. Closer inspection showed blood spatter on the leaves of plants around the area. Unable to suppress a gasp of horror, John inadvertently disturbed something in a hollow just out of sight. A scrambling sound had him duck down quickly, but not before he glimpsed a sight of a large, naked man running through the trees away from them. It may have been the low light casting shadows from the trees and the light filtering through the red and golden autumnal leaves, but the man seemed to have russet coloured hair and scars across his back. He chose not to share this vision with Brianna.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When they arrived at Fraser’s Ridge, they surprised Claire who was on the front porch.

“Thank God! I didn’t know what to think when I found these two horses grazing outside first thing this morning.”

Claire pointed at their horses that were hobbled nearby.

“I wanted to surprise you,” Brianna shrugged. “Happy Halloween, mom!”

“Surprise me? You nearly gave me heart failure.” Claire then rounded on John and gave him an accusatory glare; one he had been expecting. “Really, John what the hell were you thinking-”

“It’s not his fault,” interrupted Brianna. “I was set on coming here and he insisted on accompanying me, to keep me safe. I thought we could make it here last night. John said we wouldn’t – I ignored his advice, so we ended up taking shelter overnight. He kept me safe, mom.”

“Safe?” exclaimed Claire. “Young lady, you are covered in cuts and scrapes and your skirts are ripped – have you any idea of what your father will think?”

“I have a damn good idea,” muttered John, quietly to himself.

“Where is da?” asked Brianna looking around, ready to defend John if she had to. “I’d have thought he’d be looking after the horses, not you.”

“Oh, Jamie?” Claire’s eyes widened as if caught out. “He’s um … he’s having a wash. He was out hunting last night. He’ll be here soon – ah there he is!”

As soon as Jamie appeared, shaking water from his hair as she walked across the yard to join his family, he quickly clasped his hands behind his back.

“Bree! John! What are ye both doing here?” Jamie rushed over and hugged Brianna tightly, apparently not bothered by the rips and tears in her clothing.

As Jamie turned to greet him, John held out his hand and noticed an uncharacteristic hesitation before Jamie thrust out his own large hand to grasp it.

“My dear Jamie, what have you done to your hands?” demanded John, shocked to see that Jamie’s nails were torn to shreds.

“Och, ye ken what I’m like, mo charaid, ” replied Jamie, casting his eyes from side to side until they rested on a half-built wall around a small enclosure in which a few goats were penned. “I had to dig out some rocks to build that wall.”

Jamie tugged the ends of his shirt sleeves over his fingers and smiled awkwardly.

“Thank ye again fer taking such good care of my daughter,” Jamie’s eyes met John’s and he nodded slightly. “I ken she can be a bit of a wayward lass.”

“She is as outspoken as her mother and as fearless as her father,” replied John, neatly avoiding the question, or so he thought.

“Aye, but did she behave herself?” Jamie narrowed his eyes at Brianna, staring at her torn skirt.

“Aren’t you gonna ask if Lord John behaved himself?” asked Brianna, indignantly. “We were trapped together in a cave overnight!”

John rolled his eyes. He had thought they had agreed to keep details shared to a minimum. He then felt Jamie’s sharp gaze on him and was reminded of the way the wolf had fixed him with its bright blue, slanted eyes.

“Did ye, mo charaid?” asked Jamie, his voice stern. “Were ye as honourable as I ken ye tae be?”

Then came a growl from deep within the man’s chest – an unmistakable sound of warning.

Before John could answer for himself, Brianna blurted out:

“Lord John was, as always, the perfect gentleman.”

The fact that her daughter’s voice betrayed a smidgeon of disappointment did not go amiss with Claire. _Poor John_ , was all she could think as she ushered them all indoors for breakfast.

****

****

**Author's Note:**

> With thanks to Mistress Pandora for the memorable phrase regarding recklessness and stupidity, which I shamelessly borrowed.


End file.
